


Slip

by BadRomantic



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Memories, Play Lead!Aaron Burr, Spotlight AU, Stage Manager!Thomas Jefferson, light fluff, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 07:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17320271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadRomantic/pseuds/BadRomantic
Summary: Aaron's the lead roll in a play. He's learning some dances, but Thomas thinks it would be helpful to learn *all* the dances. With this comes a waltz.





	Slip

Aaron knew the lead part of a play included some form of physical labor. All parts do, but he just assumed that being the lead would give him a little more leniency. Apparently, Thomas believed different. 

In fact, Thomas believed he should have an idea of all the dances in the play. Even the ones he didn’t need to do.

“One - two - three - four - one - two - three…” Thomas sang more melodically than Aaron believed was necessary, especially since it drew his attention away from the steps he was suppose to be doing.

“You skipped one.” Thomas pointed out.

“I skipped three, actually,” Aaron countered.

He did not miss the short-lived eye roll or the way Thomas’s nostril’s flared with a silent sigh. He knew he was being difficult, but he didn’t think it was important. Especially for a dance like this, which required a partner. Hell, maybe he’d be a little more accommodating to his lovely Manager if he’d have something to go off of. 

Thomas moved his hands while he spoke, just as he had done when they were little, “I’m just trying to help you get an understanding…”

“I know.” Aaron agreed easily, “I just don’t see the point of it. I’m off stage for this dance.”

“Trust me, it’s important. You’ll know how long you have to get around.” Thomas eyed him, “It also doesn’t do any bad to learn how to balance on your feet…”

Aaron’s cheeks heated up so fast his head spun. The first time Thomas helped him learn a dance, he tripped over his own feet over a simple step and ended up dragging Thomas down along with him. He gave himself a bruised knee and Thomas a kink in his back that (supposedly) still hasn’t left.

“Right.” He bit out, “Well, it’s hard doing a duet when I’m a solo.”

Thomas seemed to pause at that. His eyes slowly scanned the side of the dance room, a sure sign he was gathering his thoughts, before looking back at Aaron.

“Would you like me to dance with you?”

Aaron wondered minutely if Thomas was offering out of courtesy or professionalism. Was there a difference, at this point?

“I know how hard your back has been on you,” He shook his head, “we can find someone to do it…”

“Let’s not waste their time.” Thomas cut in, albeit too swiftly for Burr to think there wasn’t a motive behind his persistence, “Besides, I’m here now. Let’s start.”

Aaron assumed that he would take the lead of the dance. That’s exactly what he was practicing, so therefor, he  _should_  have been doing it. However, Thomas took that burden on himself and moved Aaron’s hands so they were placed on his shoulders. He took advantage of this and dug his nails into Thomas’s skin. If he felt it, he didn’t make a noticeable reaction.

“Shouldn’t I be the one leading?” He asked.

Thomas scoffed, “Mister  _I-missed-three-steps?_  Yeah, right. Follow my lead.”

So they waltzed. Thomas mumbled numbers under his breath, slowing down when Aaron stumbled after a too-quick turn. Aaron could hear the smile on Thomas’s face more than he could see it. He settled to just keep this practice as simple as possible; focus on how Thomas moves.

He carefully followed the steps of his feet, squeezing onto his shoulders when he felt his weight shift too quickly and used Thomas to centralize himself.

“You’re very clumsy.” Thomas whispered.

“Thanks.” Aaron said flatly.

“It’s charming.”

He looked up, lifting a brow and tried not to let too much of his disbelief on his face. “Charming? What, waddling around like a baby horse?”

“Oh, baby horses can walk much better than you.” Thomas grinned, “Remember, we use to have those at my farm? And then their moms would get mad at us because we kept trying to pet them?”

Aaron stared at Thomas for a second, letting the memory come back to him. He does remember climbing under wooden fences with Thomas, approaching the baby horses and naming them after the most ridiculous things that could make the other laugh. He specifically remembers naming a spotted horse Beach-Ball. 

“I do.” He said, unaware of the fact that he was smiling as wide as he was, “Do you remember Beach-Ball?”

Thomas’s eyes got so comically wide that Aaron had to hurry and hide his face into his chest, just to give himself some privacy as he laughed. 

“I do!” Thomas said, “Oh my God! I remember telling my mom about that name and she thought it was the most idiotic thing! Y’know, I defended you for weeks, right?”

“It was a stupid name.” Aaron looked back to him, “She ended up changing it, right?”

“Well… yeah. You can’t sell a horse with the name Beach-Ball, Aaron.”

Aaron scoffed, “I could have.”

Thomas laughed this time, “Sure, for maybe a buck-fifty.”

Aaron realized at this moment that Thomas’s hands had gone slack at his sides, much closer to the band of his pants than they previously were, and he realized with further inspection that he was much closer to Thomas than before as well. 

A little part of him felt a thrill at the fact that he had gotten away with being so close to him, but another part of him reminded him that this was a professional setting. He wished he could toss that side of him out the window and throw professionalism out of the door, but he instead straightened himself and took a comfortable step back.

By Thomas’s face, he looked like he just realized how close they had gotten. Aaron wondered if he abhored the distance between them as much as he did.

“How does that step go, again?” He asked, just to spare himself from answering the question that hung in the air.


End file.
